


The World's End

by DashFlintceschi



Series: Prompt Table [14]
Category: You Me At Six
Genre: Gen, I guess murder and suicide, Lots of blood and some gore, Zombie Apocalypse, errbody dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DashFlintceschi/pseuds/DashFlintceschi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once it’s closed, they collapse against it, and Josh looks between the four of them with wide eyes.</p>
<p>“Now do you believe me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World's End

**Author's Note:**

> Number 38: Apocalypse.
> 
> I always felt like they should've done a zombie apocalypse video for The Swarm. Since they didn't, here's this instead.

Josh sits up quickly, cursing loudly as he hits his head on the top of his bunk. His band mates stir but don’t wake at the noise, until he pulls back his curtain and swings his legs out.

“Guys! Guys, wake up! For fuck sake, wake up!” Finally, the other four curtains pull back and they glare at him sleepily. “I just heard something outside,” he tells them, and their glares turn to scowls.

“For fuck sake, Franceschi, it’s half three in the fucking morning, go the fuck to sleep,” Max groans, but Josh keeps pestering them, refusing to let them fall back asleep.

Finally, the four of them sit up.

“If we go with you to check, will you shut the fuck up and go to sleep?” Matt demands, and Josh nods, hopping down from his bunk and grabbing a baseball bat from the bottom of it, heading towards the front of the bus as they shuffle sleepily behind him.

“Jesus, where did he even _get_ that?” Max asks tiredly, making Dan snort from behind him. When they get to the door, the four of them stand back, watching expectantly as Josh steps up and pulls the door open. It’s only halfway open when their driver dives at it, his face half gone and blood dripping from his mouth as he snarls, pushing against the door as he tries to get at them. Josh manages to push him back with the bat, and Dan jumps forward, helping him pull the door shut before the driver can get back in. Once it’s closed, they collapse against it, and Josh looks between the four of them with wide eyes.

“Now do you believe me?” He pants, and they nod, just as stunned and terrified as he is.

After a quick discussion, they get to work. They know they can’t stay here, they only have enough food to last them a few days, and now that that _thing_ knows they’re there, it’ll keep trying to get in. They grab a rucksack each and fill them with a few changes of clothes each, all the non-perishable food they have, as much water as they can fit, and anything they think they could use as a weapon. There aren’t many of those, Josh has the bat, they find a few half-decent knives in the small kitchenette, and Dan has a few drumsticks lying around that they sharpen into stakes. Once they’re ready, they go back to the door, Max hesitating with his fingers on the handle as he turns back to them.

“Alright, remember every horror film we’ve ever seen, headshots only, anything else will just piss them off,” he reminds them, and while none of them are quite ready to use ‘the zed word’, they don’t argue with him.

They manage to get out without any casualties, and make their way through the empty city, trying to find somewhere safe to set up camp. After a few tense hours, they find a warehouse. The only way in is through a metal door that has seven locks on it. They’re wary at first, the door was lying open when they found it, but after a thorough search that comes up empty, they decide to use it. When the sun comes up a little while later, they go out looking for more food and better weapons. They find a supermarket that doesn’t seem to have been touched, and take as much as they can carry. A few doors down, Dan spots a sporting goods store, and ransacks that while he’s there.

“Thank god for America, the land of lax gun laws,” he jokes when they’re safely back in the warehouse as he hands out guns and machetes to the others.

The weeks pass quickly with no end in sight, and they get their operation down to a fine art. Dan and Chris did a reconnaissance mission in the first few days, and they’ve mapped out every useful store in a three mile radius. They’ve been making a circuit of those stores, taking a little at a time from each, hoping to put off a time when they’ll have to go further from safety for as long as possible. They’ve gotten to the point now where they can get to their chosen store, get what they need, and get back to the warehouse in less than twenty minutes.

The day things start going wrong, they’re at one of the stores at the edge of their map. They’re all moving quickly through their assigned aisles, grabbing what they need, when Max lets out an ear-piercing scream. The four of them run towards him, hoping he’s just found a rat or something, but knowing it’s something worse. It’s already too late by the time they get there. Max is drenched in blood; his own, if the gaping hole in his throat is anything to go by; as he gets to his feet, his movements harsh and jerky. He slowly turns to face them, snarling softly, his eyes already sunken, his pupils pinpricks surrounded by a sickly milky blue.

“Run. Just… Run,” Dan whispers hoarsely, but they don’t get the chance as Max pounces forward, hands reaching for Matt’s throat. He doesn’t get there, though, as Josh moves in front of Matt, bringing his hatchet down as hard as he can into Max’s skull.

He manages to pull it free and shoves it back into his belt as Chris pulls him backwards towards the door. As soon as it’s secure, he turns and runs with them. There’s no sign of the one that attacked Max, and they don’t plan on hanging around for it to show itself again. 

They have planned routes to the warehouse from every store, and they’re glad of that now as they sprint back, faint screeches behind them slowly getting closer. Dan smiles grimly and pushes himself harder as he sees the fence, knowing he’s almost there. It’s a chain link fence, its gates padlocked shut. The chain holding them closed has some give, though, just enough for them to squeeze through. Josh is the last one through, and he thinks he’s made it, until he feels his hair catch on something. They haven’t exactly had time for haircuts lately, and it’s down past his shoulder blades now. He never remembers to tie it back, so it’s always getting caught on something. He turns his head as much as he can to untangle it, and finds a zombie, arm reaching through the gates, its hand clenched tightly in his hair.

He screams for the others, and they sprint back to help him. Matt and Chris grab him and hold him steady as Dan pulls the machete from his belt and swings, cutting Josh’s hair off just above the zombie’s hand. As soon as he’s free, they haul him upright and start running again.

When they get back to the warehouse, Dan finds a stool, and sets it in the middle of the small office they sleep in, patting it encouragingly as he smiles gently at Josh.

“C’mon, I made a right mess of your hair, let me even it up a bit,” he insists, and Josh nods shakily, moving to sit on the stool. They don’t have scissors, so Josh has to sit completely still as Dan does his best to carefully even out his hair with a knife.

He’s just about done when they hear a choked noise from across the room. They both turn to look, and find Chris leaning against a table as he looks at the back of his shoulder in the mirror, his eyes wide in horror.

“Please tell me those aren’t what I think they are,” he whimpers, and Matt stands up, crossing the room to look. He inspects Chris’ shoulder for a minute, then turns to Josh and Dan, his eyes full of tears.

“He has scratches on his shoulder, four of them, look like they’re from nails,” he tells them stiltedly, and Dan lets his head drop, chest filling with grief.

“He might not-” Josh starts, faltering when Dan cuts him off with a harsh, humourless laugh.

“We’ve already seen it a hundred times before. We’ve sat at those windows and watched people change from a scratch. Why would he be any different?” He bites out, and Josh looks at the floor, his shorter, but still too long hair falling in his face as he sobs softly.

“Do it now.” They freeze and look at Chris, his eyes are wet, but his jaw is clenched, and he’s determined.

“What?” Matt chokes out, and Chris nods to himself.

“Do it now, before I turn,” he insists, and they hesitate, but then Dan nods.

“I’ll do it. You’re going to go either way, I respect you enough to help you do it on your own terms,” he agrees, and Chris smiles gratefully.

The two of them go outside, and Matt goes to crouch beside Josh, the two of them clinging to each other as Josh trembles, flinching and sobbing softly as a gunshot echoes around them. When Dan comes back, he’s shaking and sobbing, and the two of them move away from each other just enough for them both to hold out an arm to Dan, inviting him into their embrace. The three of them stay there for a while, holding each other tightly and crying for Max and Chris. 

The next morning, Josh is rummaging through the cupboards in search of batteries, when he finds a radio. He goes back to the nest the three of them made to sleep in last night; none of them willing to move more than a few inches away from each other; and flops down half on top of Dan, showing them the radio.

“Think there’s anything interesting on?” He jokes, the weak, forced half smiles more than he’d expected to get.

Not expecting to find anything, Josh slowly twists the dials, his stupid sense of hope forcing him to check every frequency. He’s nearly at the end when they hear something that makes their hearts jump into their throats.

_“Attention! If anyone is listening, there is hope! There is a team of virologists at the University of Colorado Hospital in Aurora, Colorado! We are working on a cure! If there are any survivors, please come to us! We can save you!”_ They listen to the recorded message as it loops twice more, before Matt switches it off, standing to check the map on the wall.

“That’s not far. It’ll take a day or two, but… It’s not like we have any other options, right?” He asks, turning back to look at them. They both think about it for a moment, before Josh nods slowly.

“I think we should. He’s right. Staying here isn’t exactly working out for us, is it?” He asks softly, and Dan nods.

“Yeah. We’ll get everything sorted today, and head out first thing in the morning, yeah?” He suggests, and they both nod.

They set out as the sun rises the next morning, glad to leave the harsh heat of New Mexico behind them. It actually takes three and a half days to walk from Santa Fe to Aurora, but that doesn’t matter to them. They couldn’t stay there much longer, and there could be answers in Colorado. 

When they finally make it to the hospital, Josh sobs softly in despair as he sees the masses of zombies milling around outside. There has to be well over a hundred of them. They watch from the safety of a small copse of tree for a few minutes as they try to think of a plan. Matt’s thought of one, but he knows the other two will never agree to it. Finally, he decides he’s not going to give them the chance to disagree. He takes his rucksack off and shoves it into Dan’s arms.

“It’s been great, guys. It really has,” he tells them softly, and just as they figure out what he’s doing, he turns and sprints out of the trees, screaming and waving to draw the hoard of zombies to him.

It works, every single one of them running after him, leaving Josh and Dan’s path to the hospital clear. They stand in stunned silence for a minute, then, knowing they don’t have time to grieve for him, they force it down and run for the doors.

They manage to block the doors behind them and quickly search the hospital. Finally, they find a set of swing doors with _‘salvation is here’_ spraypainted on them. They burst through the doors, finally letting themselves hope, and find an empty room. No people, and no sign that anyone’s been here for some time. They move through the room, searching for something, anything, until Josh finds an A4 sheet of paper pinned to a notice board.

_“‘There is no hope, no cure. It was all for nothing. We are so sorry. God speed,’”_ he reads from it, then punches the wall. He flies through the room, screaming and raging as the throws and kicks and breaks anything he can reach.

Dan just leans against a desk, watching Josh quietly as he thinks. Finally, Josh runs out of steam, leaning against the wall as he pants harshly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles guiltily, and Dan shrugs, he’s too focused on his realisation.

“So, they’re dead, right? The zombies?” He asks, and Josh nods warily, wondering where Dan’s going with this. “So, if they’re dead, they don’t have a circulatory system. So, they wouldn’t be able to handle colder climates,” he sounds like he’s talking to himself more than Josh, and he kind of is.

“So? What’s your point?” Josh asks, and Dan blinks at him for a second, realising Josh was actually listening.

“There are parts of Alaska and Canada that are in the Arctic Circle. We could start walking, and just… Keep walking. Until we’re far enough North that they can’t follow. We could be safe up there,” he suggests, and Josh stares at him as if he’s mental for a minute, before sighing and shrugging.

“Fuck it. It’s not as if we have anything to lose at this point,” he agrees, and Dan nods, throwing his arm around Josh’s shoulders as they leave, ready to start walking again.

Five days later, things are not going well for them. Josh pants harshly, grunting in pain as Dan half drags, half carries him into the basement of the house they’d been ransacking for food, slamming the door behind them and pushing old furniture in front of it to block it. Dan helps him limp over to the furthest corner from the door, and they both slide down until they’re sitting on the floor, backs against the wall for a good view of the door.

“It won’t take them long to get through that,” Josh observes, and Dan nods, coughing as he spits out a mouthful of black blood. He eyes it with disgust, eyes softening as they turn to the gaping wound in Josh’s calf. He’d tried to kill it before it got to him, now they’re both fucked.

“I don’t think either of us has long left, anyway,” he replies finally, ignoring the scratching on the other side of the door.

“You still got that gun?” Josh asks weakly, losing blood fast, and Dan nods, slipping out of his belt and checking it.

“Three bullets left. Won’t do much good with that lot,” he huffs, and Josh clears his throat.

“I didn’t mean for them. We’re going to die soon, anyway. Or worse. Might as well go out on our own terms, right?” He corrects him, and Dan nods, holding the gun out to Josh. Josh responds by laughing softly and raising his hand so Dan can see how badly it’s shaking. His body went into shock a while ago.

Dan just nods and swallows.

“Love you, brother,” Josh tells him softly, and Dan nods, eyes filling with tears.

“Yeah, love you,” he repeats hoarsely, then raises the gun with a slightly trembling hand, eyes squeezing shut as he pulls the trigger. The noise alerts the zombies, who start scrabbling at the door even harder. They’re almost through now. Doesn’t matter, though. Dan’s hand is completely steady as he raises the gun to his temple and pulls the trigger.


End file.
